Southern Rocker Showdown Read online

  “So you’re the one person in L.A. who doesn’t want to be a star?” Jules asked with an arch of her now perfectly tweezed eyebrows.

  Clem just laughed that deep, throaty laugh. “Why settle for one star when you can be the whole sky?”

  Jules quickly learned it was impossible not to like Clementine. Within three days, the amiable stylist had ingratiated herself into their tightknit circle of four, just like she was part of the family.

  She had also pulled Jules a little more out of her cocoon, which had been the biggest miracle of all.

  Jules hoisted the bag into the dumpster in the alley just behind her townhome, but it turned out to be a swing and a miss. She had overestimated how much trash could fit in these new bags, and it split right down the middle, spilling the rubbish all over the tidy alleyway where most her neighbors were fanatical about separating trash and recyclables.

  They were part of the In crowd, and the In crowd worried about things like protecting the environment.

  “Need some help?” a male voice called from behind her. She turned to decline, but the stranger had already reached her and knelt to grab a handful of trash.

  “I’ve got it, really,” Jules muttered. The other man just smiled.

  “My hands are already dirty,” he shrugged as he scooped up a huge handful of trash. They worked in silence the minute or two it took to pick up the mess. She noted that he took the time to separate the recyclables. She still hadn’t gotten the hang of what went where, resorting to reading the trash can lids every single time she tried to take out the trash.

  He didn’t have that problem. He sorted it all with authority. When he was done, he closed the lid on the receptacle and faced his new neighbor. “I’m Don,” he introduced as he held out a hand. It was covered with grit and sticky residue, so he pulled back with an awkward chuckle.

  Jules inspected the stranger, who had blond hair to his shoulders, a deep tan and dancing blue eyes. He was probably somewhere in his 30s, and looked about as dangerous as a cocker spaniel. “You can clean up inside,” she offered before leading the way. “I’m Jules,” she added over her shoulder.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said as he followed her through the backyard. He spotted the swing set. “You have kids?”

  “A grandson,” she admitted.

  He laughed. “There’s no way you’re a grandma.”

  She smiled. Usually men only complimented her like that when they were trying to stiff her out of a tip at her old restaurant. “It’s true,” she said before she swung open the back door. Cody, who was sitting at the table, drawing with Leah, immediately brightened for their guest. “Say hi to Don, Cody.”

  “Hi, Don!” Cody beamed with that smile that wouldn’t quit.

  “Hi, Don,” Leah greeted, and to Jules’s surprise, Don greeted her back by name.

  “You know each other?”

  “I live next door to the Rileys,” he said. “I think they’re the official welcome wagon around here.”

  Jules laughed as she washed her hands. “I think you’re right.” He waited until she was done and then washed his hands in the sink. “Can I get you some coffee or something?”

  “Tea if you have it,” he accepted with a smile.

  “Iced or hot?”

  “Hot, please,” he said before he sat next to Leah at the table. He inspected their work. “This is really nice, Cody,” he praised the little boy who stared up at him in wonder. He wasn’t used to a lot of men in his world.

  “Thank you,” he said politely before he climbed right up into his lap.

  “Cody!” Jules admonished at once.

  “He’s all right,” Don assured her. “I love kids. I always wanted a dozen more of my own.” He rumpled Cody’s dark hair.

  Jules put the kettle on to boil. “How many do you have?”

  “Just one,” he said. “Sydney. She’s in the competition this year.”

  “So’s my daughter,” Jules said as she joined them at the table.

  “Ah, the enemy lines are drawn, then,” he joked with an affable grin.

  She tried to contain her own smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t poison you the first week.”

  He laughed out loud, which made Cody laugh too, though he didn’t know why. “Good to know,” Don said with a wink.

  “I can’t wait to meet Sydney,” Leah announced. “She’s my age.”

  “I think she’s a little older than you are, sweetheart,” Don corrected gently. To Jules, he said, “She’s fourteen.”

  “Lovely age, isn’t it?” Jules commented with a smirk. “It’s the year they figure out they know everything and you know nothing.”

  “Nah,” he shook his head with that same benevolent smile. “She’s a good kid. She’s had a rough go of it since her mom died a year ago.”

  Instantly Jules was chagrined. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Don just shrugged it off. “Life’s a bitch, what can I tell you? But Sydney is a true joy. She’s never really given me any trouble. If anything, she’s the one that’s been looking out for me. I was not ready to be a single parent.”

  “Is anyone?” Jules shot back. He conceded with a tip of his head.

  “You have a point.” He leaned back in the chair. “I gotta tell you, I’m freaked out about watching her perform. I mean, I always am, but this is a pretty big deal. A far cry from community theater.”

  Jules sighed. “Yeah, my daughter started at the fair. Struggled through the bar scene. And now she’s about to put herself out there for millions of viewers to judge. I couldn’t do it.”

  “Neither could I. Karaoke is about as far as I am willing to go. You get to drink and suck. It’s awesome.”

  She chuckled. Her own musical aspirations were hidden away, quickly stuffed underneath real life the second she had Lacy. “It’s such a hard business. I’ve spent the last decade trying to talk her out of it.”

  “Oh, I never did,” Don said. “Performing is Sydney’s dream. I couldn’t crush it for the world.” He leaned forward on his forearm. “When I was her age, I wanted to be an astronaut. My dad was a huge science nerd from the time he watched the moon landing, so he was the first one to drag us all out to Kennedy Space Center that April morning in ’81 to watch the maiden voyage of the Space Shuttle. I was six and it blew my mind,” he said with such emphasis she could almost see that little boy still inside. “After that I was all about space. I built my own models of rockets. I went to space camp. I took all the science classes and the math classes, determined to make my dream of space travel a reality.”

  The teapot whistled and she hopped up to prepare his tea. “And did you?”

  He laughed. “Hell, no.” She chuckled with him. “I met Syndey’s mother junior year. By graduation, I had a new dream.” He smoothed Cody’s hair as a nostalgic smile danced around the corners of his mouth. “But even though I never made it to NASA, I never regretted all those years I spent pursuing that dream. Because you have to reach for something, right? Otherwise what’s the point? Why hang in there day after day just to survive? You have to believe that someday things are going to be amazing. Otherwise why the hell are we fighting so hard to survive?”

  She studied him thoughtfully as she brought him his cup of tea. He was another dreamer, but not necessarily an impractical one. He was able to adapt and grow and adjust his expectations accordingly. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  But she did know that she liked him. He was harmless and approachable, with good humor and what appeared to be a level head.

  For the first time in her life, Jules was grateful for a ripped trash bag.

  Vi arrived around six o’clock, dropped off by Clementine who couldn’t stay, since she had a hot date. Don had already gone home by then, so it was only four for dinner. “Maybe we can invite him back,” Vi suggested. Jules shook her head.

  “Put your arrow back in your quiver, Cupid,” she said as she brought the casserole dish to the table. “Let’s not complicate anythin
g more than it has to be.”

  “Who says it has to be complicated at all?” Vi asked. “He’s a man, you’re a woman…”

  “And at some point, our kids are going to go head to head. One of us will leave before the other. Hanging out and being friendly is one thing. I’m not looking to form any long-lasting bonds, thank you very much.”

  In fact, she was trying to avoid it at all costs. Getting close to people meant putting not only her heart on the line, but Cody’s. And she wasn’t about to do that, not when the stakes were so high.

  She read the hurt on Vi’s and Leah’s faces immediately. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she assured quickly. No matter what happened between Jonah and Lacy, she liked Vi and wanted to stay in touch even after the show. They were a lot alike. They came from the same place. And Vi was the closest thing to a bestie that Jules had ever had. “I’d just rather not get cozy with men, that’s all.”

  Vi watched her as she spooned food into her plate. “He really hurt you, didn’t he?”

  “Who?” Jules asked, stalling. But Vi was right on task.

  “Lacy’s father.”

  Jules sighed as she put her fork beside her plate. “We just wanted different things. That’s all. Maybe it’s my fault,” she muttered. “I tried to whittle a square peg for a round hole. But I learned my lesson. That’s the important thing.”

  “Then what harm could there be, exploring a friendship with him? Honestly, Jules, we could probably use all the friends we can get. Scuttlebutt is that Gay is organizing a little block party next week, the day after the elimination.”

  Jules scoffed. “That woman sure is something else, isn’t she? Only she would invest in a party that she’s not one-hundred-percent sure she’s going to be around to attend.”

  “Oh, she’s sure,” Vi corrected. “They’ve enlisted all of Austin to vote for Tony Paul.”

  “Of course,” Jules sighed. “With her money she can probably buy the votes.”

  “Probably. We just have to hold onto the idea that the most talented person will win.”

  “And none of us knows who that will be until the live show on Monday.”

  Vi turned practically green. “Girl, I have to tell you. I am so nervous I can barely sleep at night.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Leah assured her quietly. “He’s got this.”

  Vi smiled at her daughter and patted her hand. “You should know. You’re his biggest fan.”

  Leah returned her mother’s smile before she turned to Jules. “Lacy’s going to make it, too.”

  Jules wondered how she could be so sure when everything around them was so uncertain. Two contestants were going home that following week, one girl, one boy. They had one shot to make a first impression, and that had never been Lacy’s strong suit. “What makes you so sure?”

  “She wants it,” Leah answered simply. “She’ll tell you she doesn’t. She’ll probably act like she doesn’t. She has to because she’s scared. If someone knew how bad she really, really wanted it, they could hurt her by trying to take it away. But if she left Cody to do this, she’s going to make it count. I know it.”

  Jules softened. Leah was a sweet little girl with such a gentle soul. Cody was blessed to have her as a caregiver. “Thanks, Leah.”

  Leah beamed. “You’re welcome.”

  Vi covered Jules’s hand with her own. “You’re not alone anymore, Jules. And neither is Lacy. Whatever happens, we can handle it together.”

  Jules decided then and there that Vi would make a much better match for Don than she ever could. Where she was moody and bitchy and closed-off and pessimistic, Vi was five-foot-five of living, breathing sunshine.

  She had never played Cupid before, but all of a sudden it seemed like a fun way to pass the time.

  She called Don that evening to schedule a dinner for five over the weekend.

  Lacy’s weekend was packed solid. She finally selected a hit to cover, one that established her firmly as the resident rock chick. Sure there were other contenders, like Emo rocker Sage Bruski and Shiloh himself, but they didn’t have the bluesy soul she had inherited from southern roots. America wanted a sob story? They’d get it in the music.

  Shiloh heard her song choice, but wasn’t overly excited about it. She could handle the blues, but ninety seconds wasn’t long enough to prove she had the scars to sing them. He suggested, again, that she take a more recognizable tune and “Lacy” it up.

  That would come later, she decided. Her first introduction to her audience had to set the tone of what they could expect from her. If they wanted some attention-hogging sex kitten, they had another thing coming.

  She ran right into the first buzz saw at Jorge Navarro’s Magical Kingdom on the Fierce lot.

  Jorge Navarro was the stylist to the stars, and had been working, successfully, with several hit TV shows, including Dixie, Love Plus One and the first season of Fierce. But he was still a dude, whose dark eyes glittered as they danced over her, contemplating the possibilities of what he could do with this blank slate.

  She’d made up her mind when she was fourteen that no one was going to sex her up to sell her like some blue plate special. She was a serious artist. That’s all the audience needed to know.

  Jorge saw things a little differently. He was just as stubborn as he had been the first day they met, during the audition process. He wanted to glam her up with some forties retro hairdo and ball gown, where as she wanted to keep her leather and her studs and show off her tattoos.

  And now that Tony Paul was a part of the deal, she was even more determined to sell her voice and not her body.

  “I am not a blowup doll!” she finally exploded.

  “No. You’re a character.”

  “No. I’m Lacy.”

  “No, you’re a feeling,” he shot back as they stood practically toe to toe. His brown eyes, lined with dark guyliner, matched the fire in her own. “That’s what you’re selling out there, sweetheart. You’re not selling a lyric or a chord, a song or a CD. You’re selling a moment in someone’s life. You’re more than just a voice. More than just a singer. You’re love and rage. You’re sex and pain. You can be anyone. Do anything. Say anything,” he added. “Fuck you isn’t exactly what you want to tell a legion of potential fans.”

  Their first consultation was a complete bust. She left without agreeing on anything, from wardrobe to makeup. He was ready to put her in some dumb cat suit like Gay, to make her just sexy enough to forgive her bad attitude.

  But she didn’t want to be forgiven for it. She didn’t even want to be understood.

  She wanted to be strong. That’s all that mattered.

  Unfortunately Jorge was just as obstinate as she was. He held out like he was waiting for her to finish the last Brussels sprout on her plate.

  Eventually Vanni Carnevale had to intervene. He showed up late Saturday night, when dress rehearsals were running long, but she hadn’t even circled around to a wardrobe selection. Vanni walked her outside to the food truck to buy her a taco. He eased in gently. “I hear that there’s a bit of a problem.”

  “Lemme guess. Jorge tattled.”

  “You really shouldn’t piss off your fairy godmother,” Vanni advised. “I’m not really sure if he can turn you into a pumpkin, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”

  Her eyes met his. “You say that this is a show about the talent, not the image. That’s what I’m going for here. They don’t have to like me, but they do have to respect me. I’m not some vapid paper doll.”

  “Sweetie, they’re never going to know your name. You go out onto that stage, guns blazing, and you’re going to make all the others look tame by comparison. When it comes to root for someone, how do you think that will stack in your favor?”

  She sighed. “So what am I supposed to do? Flirt with everyone in the front row like you do?”

  He grinned. “I’ve always found this extremely successful.”

  She shook her head and chortled in response. He was irrepressible. �
�Vanni.”

  He touched her elbow with his hand. “I believe in you. I know you have what it takes to win this thing. But I’m also scared you are going to do everything in your power to get voted out of here. You get one shot at this, Lacy. We gave it to you because we think you have something special, something that needs to be shared. You need to stop fighting this invisible war with everyone.”

  She softened as she stared up at him. “Fine.”

  “Good girl,” he grinned, before wiping away the sauce at the corner of her mouth. “Give it a week or two, get past the quarterfinals, then you can come out guns blazing. I’ll even loan you the bullets,” he added as he bent forward to whisper it conspiratorially.

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she warned.

  He smirked. “Make sure that you do. Because if you get voted off first, I’m going to kick your ass back to Austin.”

  As she walked to Jorge’s Magical Kingdom, it occurred to her that she could adopt that 1940s siren theme if she reworked the song like Shiloh had advised her to do. She could deliver it like a torch singer, making every guy in the joint think she was singing it for him. If there was one thing she could be above all else, it was unrequited love.

  Jorge was beside himself when she walked in, ready to place herself in his knowledgeable hands. He curled her colorful hair into dramatic victory rolls. He arched her eyebrows for a sultry Lauren Bacall look, finishing the look with dark red lipstick that gave her the perfect pout. He matched the red to a maroon strapless gown that taped to its mermaid hem with a long line of red sequins woven into the black lace overlay. They caught the lights just like a flame shooting down her dress.

  With all her tattoos and piercings, it was quite a dramatic effect. She headed back to the studio to rehearse before she lost her nerve. She sang the toned down version of her song as she sat next to the pianist in the band. Several other cast mates lingered in the audience to watch her work, including Tony Paul Hollis.